


Switch Hitter

by fandomsfeelsandfuckery



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baseball, M/M, baseball player!Dean, catcher!Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2017-12-16 12:23:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomsfeelsandfuckery/pseuds/fandomsfeelsandfuckery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel attends his first ever baseball game in the small(ish) town of Lawrence, Kansas, where he is confused by the game but entranced by the catcher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cheap Beer and Too Many Rules

Castiel had no idea why he let his friends drag him to a baseball game, especially one in a small town that is much too far from his city apartment for his comfort. It is dirty, and loud, and he doesn't even understand the game. But Anna wouldn't stop pestering him, and he really can't say no to her. And so he, Anna, Ash, and Chuck all found a spot on the bleachers together, close to where the players sit. The dugout, he's fairly certain, is what the area is called. Castiel feels out of place in his ironed khakis and lightweight, fitted button up. Most the people sitting around them are in t-shirts and varying types of jeans and shorts. Ash fits right in with the rest of the crowd and Castiel envies his comfort. At least Chuck too seems somewhat uncomfortable. He, however, at least has a vague sense of the social norms that go with attending baseball games, since he played for a few years as a child, he once told Castiel. Castiel hasn't the vaguest notion of what is going on nor what is expected of him, and he is certain that his discomfort is obvious. He thinks wistfully of his apartment, where he could be having a cup of tea and reading a favorite novel, far from judgemental eyes and confusing ball games.  
A voice comes on a loudspeaker. Castiel can barely make out what the announcer is saying, its a jumble of names and foreign words, so he stops paying attention. He's jolted back to attention with a nudge from Anna.  
"Stand up, Cas, they're playing the national anthem," she whispers to him. Castiel launches to his feet quickly and awkwardly, trying to figure out where everyone is looking.  
"The flag, Cas, goodness, its right in center field," Anna tells him, noticing the spastic, confused looks he's throwing everywhere. Her statement doesn't help, however, as he has no idea where "center field" is, so he just looks at Anna blankly until she points to a flag hanging far out in the middle of the grass, behind a short fence.  
Cas looks out at the field and, once the music ends, sees players in matching uniforms running out to seemingly random places, some on the dirt, others on the grass, and one covered in equipment, a helmet held in his hand. He is fairly close to Castiel and his friends, and Castiel can't help but notice how attractive he is. He's beautiful yet manly, his green eyes soft and friendly, with light brown freckles splattered across his face. He has a muscular frame, and damn, that ass. Castiel usually avoids vulgarities, but that man has struck him dumb, his vocabulary has abandoned him.  
"Ash, who's the man on the team wearing all the gear?" Castiel questions.  
"That's the catcher, Cas," Ash responds, his voice only slightly condescending and aggravated.  
"No, no, I mean what's his name?" Castiel persists.  
"Shit I dunno man, his jersey says Winchester," Ash responds vaguely. "I'm gonna go find the beer."  
And with that, Ash gets up and wanders off in search of the concession stand and some alcohol. Castiel continues to stare at Winchester, the "catcher" (although Cas is fairly certain all the players catch the ball, so he's unsure why only this one gets the title). The man glances into the stands and his eyes light up and a small smile graces his face upon recognition of someone, like they're there just for him. Probably his girlfriend, Castiel thinks glumly. His heart sinks at the thought, and he hates himself for it because he hasn't even talked to this man and therefore has no reason to invest in him emotionally.  
Ash returns with two cans of beer and a gleeful look on his face.  
"Dude, the beer here is only two dollars! We gotta come to these town ball games more often!" Ash tells Castiel excitedly. Cas responds with a grumble of assent, his eyes still glued on the catcher. The game begins, although Castiel couldn't pinpoint the exact time when, but soon there are balls flying through the air and sometimes people cheer at this occurrence, and other times they boo, and he really should at least try to understand what's going on. He decides to ask Chuck to teach him the rules, as he will be more patient and understanding than Ash, especially after the discovery of the two-dollar beer.  
By the fifth inning, Castiel knows there are three strikes to an out, four balls to a walk, and three outs to a half-inning. He's feeling fairly proud of all he has learned, and thinks he understands the game well enough now. But once again, he is left confused as the batter hits his third foul ball and remains at the plate.  
"Chuck, shouldn't he be out? He hit three foul balls," Castiel asks Chuck.  
"No, no, foul balls don't count as strikes if you've already got two strikes," Chuck responds absently. So, this game is a bit more complicated than he initially thought. After hitting a few more foul balls, the batter swings and misses the ball and the catcher drops it. The catcher then scrambles the pick the ball up and touches the batter with it. And again, Castiel is confused.  
"Chuck, why did the catcher touch the batter with the ball, wasn't he already out?" Castiel asks.  
"Its called a dropped third strike, if the catcher drops the third strike the batter can run to first. Most batters don't bother running at this level though. The catcher was tagging him as like, insurance, making sure he's out." Chuck replies patiently. And with that, Castiel decides he's done trying to understand this complicated game. There are too many exceptions to the rules to remember and actually understand what's going on. So, Cas decides to watch the attractive catcher and ignore the actual game, because hey, he's entitled to a nice view.  
The game finally ends, and Castiel remained a mostly nondescript attendee, except for an incident in the middle of the 7th inning, where upon being told to "stretch," he actually began some exercises before learning that the commanded "stretching" only entailed standing up and singing along to a song he didn't recognize. Castiel and his friends sit chatting for a while after the game ends, and by the time they decide to leave, the players have packed up their things and are doing the same. Castiel makes quite a scene when he gets up by managing to trip on the bleacher bench he was attempting to step over and tumbling down the bleachers and into a player on his way out.  
"Hey man, you okay? Had a few too many drinks?" the player asks as he helps Castiel up from where he's sprawled on the ground.  
"No, I haven't consumed any alcohol. I'm fine, thank you," Castiel replies politely, looking up at the man. And, Castiel realizes its the same player he's been staring at for the past hour and a half.  
"Well you just have some very bad luck, then" the player states with a chuckle. "I'm Dean, by the way."  
"I thought you were called Winchester" Cas replies without thinking.  
"That's my last name. Man, its like you've never seen a baseball game before," Dean says, amused.  
"I haven't," Castiel replies seriously. "Before today, that is."  
"Jesus, really?" Dean says, shocked. "Well, how'd you like it then?"  
"I have no idea what just happened," Castiel states plainly. Dean laughs at this and it definitely doesn't make Cas's heart flutter.  
"Well man, we won. I have to go, someone's waiting for me, but it was nice meeting you..."  
"Castiel"  
"Castiel? That's a weird name."  
"I agree, but I rather like it."  
"See ya around, Cas."  
And with that, Dean walks away, with amusement in his eyes and a smile on his face. Castiel hears a faint shout of "Sammy" come from Dean, and his stomach knots as he puts two and two together and realizes that "Sammy," the person waiting for Dean, must be his girlfriend. Cas turns around to see if his friends are where he left them. Anna gives him a curious smile and turns to push Ash and Chuck down the bleachers and out of the ballpark.  
Cas falls asleep that night to thoughts of Dean Winchester, the catcher, and his wonderful ass.


	2. Harry Potter, Coffee, and Classic Movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel makes a new friend in a coffee shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if anyone is following this story, but sorry it took so long to update. Writers block and laziness and whatnot.

Ash, having a love of cheap beer, drags Castiel, Anna, and Chuck to the next two home games for the Lawrence Bears (Castiel didn’t bother to learn the team’s name until halfway through the second game). He makes no further attempts to understand the game and instead devotes his time to fantasizing about Dean Winchester. He keeps catching himself staring at Dean’s ass as he squats behind home plate. Cas doesn’t encounter Dean again, although he swears he catches Dean looking at him several times, though Castiel doubts Dean would remember him, and if he did, he would be recalling the mortifying (for Castiel) tumble down the bleachers and into Dean. During that week, all Castiel can think about is Dean Winchester. He realizes how problematic it has become when he fails to hold a conversation at work because his mind continues to wander back to Dean. Cas decides he must try to forget Dean, for the sake of his sanity, as pining over a man he could never have, in any version of reality, will do him no good.   
And Castiel manages to spend the next two weeks with only passing thoughts of Dean. Cas is very good at keeping busy, and one of his favorite ways to keep his mind off Dean is by reading a book and sipping either coffee or tea in the small coffee shop near his apartment. One day, he finds himself sitting in one of the two armchairs, tucked away in the corner of the shop, his nose buried in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone for the upteenth time. Castiel is so absorbed in the book that he doesn’t notice the large man that has approached him until he clears his throat.   
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” the man asks. He has long, brown hair, and is very tall and muscular.   
“No, of course not, go right ahead,” Castiel responds with a sweeping gesture towards the open armchair. The man sits down and pulls out a laptop. Castiel returns to his book and both men sit in silence for a while. Castiel becomes so entranced in his book that he barely notices how much time has passed until the shuffling of the large man seated next to him, who is packing up his things, snaps him out of his trance. He looks at his watch and is shocked by the time it reads.   
“Oh, shit, is it really a quarter to eight?” Castiel exclaims, utterly shocked.   
“Yeah man, why? Got somewhere to be?” the gigantic man next to Cas replies unexpectedly with a soft chuckle.   
“No, but that means I’ve been here for three hours. I hadn’t even realized how hungry I am.” As if on cue, Castiel’s stomach growls loudly. Castiel is still a bit shocked by how much time had passed while he transported himself to the wizarding world.   
“That’s really not surprising. The first time I read that book, I sat down for five hours and didn’t get up once. I finished the whole thing within a day. Those Harry Potter books are like crack, I swear,” the man continues with a warm smile. “I’m Sam, by the way. I actually just moved here this week.”  
“Well then, welcome to Kansas City, Sam. I’m Castiel. What brings you here, anyway?” Castiel asks Sam. Cas realizes that he is being strangely sociable, he usually is quite skilled at putting all conversations to an awkward and premature end. However, there’s something about Sam that draws him in. Cas feels like Sam understands him, that he sees the intelligence that is buried under all the awkward.   
“I just finished my law degree at Stanford, and I wanted to move here to be close to my brother. He lives in Lawrence, where we grew up, actually,” Sam tells all this to Cas, and Cas gets the feeling that Sam too shares the strange feeling of instant comfort with each other. “Hey, do you know any good places to eat nearby, I’m starving.”  
“Yeah, I was actually going to go to this organic restaurant that just opened two blocks away. Sorry, but I don’t know of many places that serve greasy food.”  
“No, no. That organic restaurant sounds perfect. My brother’s been taking me out for dinner lately, and he eats exclusively at greasy diners that only serve variations of deep-fried fat.”  
“Well, feel free to join me, I’d love to have someone to talk to, though I’m afraid my popular culture knowledge doesn’t extend further than that of Hogwarts” Castiel says with a glint in his eye. Sam laughs and claps Castiel on the shoulder.   
“That’s alright, lucky for you, I am an excellent teacher, and I promise to educate you on all the best parts of pop culture. Lead the way, Cas.”  
And so, Castiel and Sam walk the two blocks to the organic restaurant and have a delicious, grease-free meal and a good conversation.   
*  
*  
Castiel and Sam become fast friends, and they often find themselves at the same coffee shop together, chatting about their favorite books, or debating different issues headlined in the news. Castiel finds that Sam has a wide array of knowledge, like himself, and Sam seems unaffected by Castiel’s strange tendencies and awkward demeanor.   
One day, Castiel is at the coffee shop, sitting is his usual armchair, when Sam walks in, his phone pressed to his ear. He sits down next to Castiel and talks for a minute before hanging up with a “See you Friday, then.”  
“Was that a client?” Castiel watches Sam as he puts his phone away and digs out his wallet.   
“No, that was my brother. He’s coming over on Friday, and I was actually wondering if you’d like to hang out with us? I think you guys would get along and I’m sure he’d want to meet you.” Sam abruptly walks away then, to order his coffee. Castiel considers Sam’s offer and decides to go, mostly because Sam looked so excited for Cas to meet his brother. Sam returns with his steaming coffee and collapses in the seat beside Castiel.   
“So what do you think, you coming Friday?”   
“Sure, what will we be doing?”  
“We’ll probably just hang out at my place, watch a movie, order pizza, you know.”  
Castiel doesn’t understand what else he’s suppose to “know,” but he nods his head nonetheless.   
“Okay, what is your address?”  
Sam scribbles down the address of his apartment on a scrap of paper. Cas shoves it into his pocket and wonders what Sam’s brother will think of him. Sam talks about him a lot, and from what Castiel has gathered, he’s appears to be Castiel’s opposite in every way.   
*  
*  
Friday finds Castiel sitting with Sam in the coffee shop, chatting before they both head to work. Sam was about to leave when he suddenly turned around and walked back to Cas.   
“Did you forget something?” Castiel asks as he looks around the table for whatever object Sam may have left behind.   
“No, I just realized I never gave you a time! Why don’t you come over at like seven tonight?”  
Castiel answers this with a blank stare.   
“My brother’s coming over, remember? You forget already?” Sam asks with a laugh.   
“Oh right, of course, I didn’t forget.”   
He, of course, had forgotten.   
“Okay, I’ll see you at seven then!” Castiel gives a small wave as he watches Sam turn around and leave the coffeeshop.   
Well, shit.   
Castiel had completely forgotten about meeting Sam’s brother. Now he had just twelve hours to mentally prepare himself for socializing with an unfamiliar human. And so Cas slacked off at work that day, his mind consumed with formulating every possible horror story the coming night could produce. The majority of them ended with Cas bolting out of the apartment, changing his name, and moving to another country. Because he’s an overdramatic son of a bitch.   
At seven o’clock sharp, Castiel is knocking on Sam’s door. It swings open to reveal a grinning Sam, who ushers him in with energetic gestures.   
“Cas! Right on time. Dean’s not here yet. Do you want something to drink?”  
“Um, sure, I’ll have a pop. Coke if you have it,” Castiel relpies timidly and Sam opens the fridge and digs around before extracting a cold can of Coke. They stand in the kitchen, Cas with his Coke and Sam with a beer. They’d been chatting for about ten minutes when the loud roar of a car engine pierced the room and stopped Sam mid-sentence.  
“That sounds like Dean.” Sam has a grin plastered across his face and he sounds excited. There is soon a knock on the door and Sam all but bounds across the room to open it. As the door swings open, a gasp escapes Cas’s lips. He recognizes the face in the doorway. He had tried desperately to erase that face from his memory, as well as the single, awkward encounter he’d had with that face. And with that reminder, a soft pink begins to tinge his face.   
“Sammy! Got a beer for me too?” The man winks at Sam and follows him into the kitchen.   
“This is Cas, by the way, my friend I’ve been telling you about,” Sam throws over his shoulder as he begins to rifle through the fridge. “Cas, this is Dean, of course.”  
Dean looks at Cas and recognition crosses his face.   
“Hey, weren’t you the guy that fell down the bleachers at the Bears’ game a few weeks ago?”  
Of course he had to bring that up. Castiel flushes and ducks his head as he responds.   
“Yes, that was me.”  
Sam straightens and looks at the two of them quizzically.   
“Wait a minute, Cas is the bleachers guy? Seriously?”  
“Apparently, I am.” Castiel is definitely embarrassed now. Of all the horrid turns of events he’d imagined this night taking, this had not been one of them. Sam is now doubled over laughing and Cas can’t believe his luck.   
“Well Cas, I can’t say I’m all that surprised,” Sam says as he claps Castiel on the shoulder.   
Cas is saved further embarrassment by a knock on the door. Sam answers it and and returns with two pizza boxes in hand. He plops them on the counter and digs out three plates from a cabinet. They all dish up and Sam leads them into the living room.   
“I already picked out a movie, so don’t bother throwing out suggestions” Sam says as he sinks into the armchair. Cas figures this is aimed at Dean, since Sam knows Castiel has almost no knowledge of films or popular culture. Castiel then realizes that, Sam having taken the only armchair, he and Dean must share the couch, which makes Cas unnecessarily nervous.   
“Fine, as long as its not another one of those chick flicks you love to cry over,” Dean looks at Sam with an exasperated, teasing expression on his face. Sam doesn’t respond to the insult, choosing instead to fix Dean with his best bitch-face.   
“Dude, chill, I picked one I knew you’d like,” Sam says as he holds up the movie. The cover reads The Graduate. “Cas knows nothing about classic films, or films in general, so I figured we could start his education with one of your favorites.”  
“Wait, you’ve never seen The Graduate? Like, ever?” Dean turns to face Cas, looking incredulous. “Come on, it’s a classic!”  
“I’ve always been content with my books. The written word has been around for millennia, so I would call that the real classic here.” Castiel responds plainly. Dean stares at him skeptically for a minute before bursting into laughter.   
“You’re kinda weird, you know that Cas?” Cas doesn’t know how to respond to Dean’s question, but it appears no response was needed as Dean is now focused on pestering Sam to start the movie. The movie begins and everyone settles back into their seats. Castiel is surprised by the sexualness of the movie, especially upon learning that it was released in 1967. It makes him tense and a little horny, especially sitting next to Dean Winchester, star of Castiel’s sexual fantasies since he first laid eyes on him. Cas keeps glancing over at Dean, and every so often he swears he catches Dean’s eyes on him, for a just half a second, before they shift back to the screen. Castiel also notices that Dean cannot sit still, constantly shifting his position and brushing against Cas. Cas’s skin tingles wherever Dean touches him, however lightly, and consequently, his attention is diverted for half the movie. Once the movie ends, Cas assures Dean and Sam that he enjoyed it, even though he missed half of it due to his sexual frustration from sitting so close to Dean and not being able to touch him. The three men talk for a short while, until Cas tries to leave, citing the time and explaining that he should really get home.   
“C’mon, Cas. Its Friday, its barely eleven, you can stay a while longer,” Sam complains.  
“Yeah, Cas. Have a little fun, its not illegal, you know. I’ll grab us another round of beers, and we’ll show you a good time,” Dean says. And then adds, as an afterthought, “Not sexually.”  
The remark didn’t stop Cas from launching yet another mini-fantasy about Dean, though. Dean soon returned with three beers, pulling Cas out of his fantasy. He knew drinking alcohol usually wasn’t a good idea for him, but decided to anyways. He figured it might help him deal with the ache of being so close to Dean and not being allowed to have him.   
They all end up talking and drinking late into the night, the conversations getting stranger and stranger as the night wears on and they become more drunk. The more alcohol they consume, the more flawed their logic becomes. They eventually get sleepy and Castiel has the excellent idea to fall asleep exactly where he’s sitting, and the others soon follow suit.   
And that is how Castiel ends up awaking shirtless, curled up on Sam’s couch, limbs entangled with none other than: Dean Winchester. And, in a case of temporary insanity, he decides to feign sleep until Dean wakes up, in order to enjoy the feel of Dean pressed against him for a while longer.


	3. A Particularly Hard Situatuon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel has a hard time upon waking the next morning, and soon discovers his day to be much more uncomfortable than he planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry, sorry!! Believe me, I tried to update this at LEAST two weeks ago, and I had to do it twice so I should've known to triple check, but I didn't. So the update didn't work (obviously) so here it is now. Updates will come a LOT faster after this.

Castiel is appreciating how warm and strong Dean’s arms feel around him when Dean begins to move.   
Shit, this is the end, he’s gonna wake up and know that I’m awake and haven’t made any attempt to move from this position and be freaked out and think I’m weird and never talk to me ever again and I’ll probably make some weird comment that’s suppose to be funny but he won’t get it because most people don’t understand my sense of humor and it’ll just sound really homoerotic knowing me and holy shit, my life is over, I’m moving to Mexico, it’s settled.  
Okay, so maybe Castiel is overreacting, just a little bit. But, Castiel’s sudden panic was, apparently, for nothing, as all Dean does is unconsciously pull Cas closer and let out a weird noise that is somewhere between a grunt and a snore. The change in position presents a new issue, however, as it has pushed something hard against Cas’s inner thigh and, holy fucking shit that’s his cock, abort, abort, get out of here before things get awkward.   
Cas can feel himself hardening and he needs to get the fuck out of here before Dean wakes up. Cas tries his best to gently untangle himself from Dean, but his grip is too tight. Castiel considers waking Dean up, but there is too much potential awkwardness and embarrassment in having Dean wake up to not one, but two, hard-ons.   
Fuck. Just will it away Cas, you can do it. Mind over matter, come on, think of something unattractive.   
And just when Cas thought he had a handle on the situation, Dean moved again, brushing against his cock and capturing its attention once again. He decides he will have to fight his way out, tooth and nail, because he is not going to wait around to find out how Dean reacts to having an erection pressed against him. Castiel finally claws his way out of Dean’s grasp, and, shockingly, finds Dean still fast asleep. In Castiel’s absence, Dean adjusts his position so that he is now laying on his stomach and clutching the pillow beneath his head.   
(He sure is a fidgety sleeper.) Oh holy fuck, look at that ass. Dear God, this is not fair, he should not be allowed.   
As Castiel continues to stare, appreciating the fine piece of ass before him, he feels the ache of his cock, begging for attention. At this point, there’s no way his boner is going away quietly, so he goes to the bathroom and tries to be as quiet as possible as he jerks off. He feels creepy for it, but he can’t help but think of Dean as he pumps his dick.   
Castiel cleans himself up and walks out of the bathroom. He hears the pop and sizzle of bacon cooking before he sees Sam in the kitchen, watching over it.   
“That smells incredible,” Castiel’s mouth is watering as he stares at the half-cooked bacon.   
“Oh, hey, morning Cas. How do you like your eggs?” Sam inquires.   
“Scrambled, please.”  
Castiel hears faint rumbling followed by heavy footsteps trudging towards the bathroom. A few minutes later he hears the door creak open and Sam calls out.   
“Yes, Dean, that is bacon you smell. I’m making eggs too.”  
“Damn it, Sammy, stop it with that freaky psychic crap.”  
“I’m not psychic, I just know you better than you know yourself.”  
After breakfast, Castiel tries to make a quick escape, but Sam insists that they all go out for coffee. They walk to the shop together, Castiel feeling particularly awkward in Dean’s presence, especially after the morning’s incidents, and so, due to this distracting discomfort, he managed to trip through the door to the coffee shop, failing to catch himself and landing hard on his butt. Sam was doubled over with laughter, so Dean offered his hand and helped Cas up, adding to his already red cheeks. The rest of the coffee run was relatively uneventful, aside from Dean laughing at Sam’s “middle school girl’s” coffee order. Cas, of course, didn’t understand what was so hilarious about Sam’s coffee, so he just sat in silent confusion. Once they’d finished their drinks, Cas went home and took a much needed shower (he reeked of alcohol after the previous night). Some time after he dried off and dressed, Ash texted him. 

Ash: dude anotehr gam tnite ur comin with 

Castiel: No thanks. I’m not in the mood for a baseball game tonight. 

Ash: u need sum fresh air u never leav that dam aprtment man i wil not take no for an anseewr 

Castiel: I get out! I do have a job, and basic human needs. Food, for example. 

Ash: xactly therll be food at the game

Castiel: That hardly qualifies as “food.”

Ash: u r comin if i hav to drag ur asss out of that aprtment

Castiel: Fine! I concede. What time are we leaving at?

Ash: excellent victory at last same tiem as alwys losr

Castiel was even less enthusiastic than usual for the game, after the whole cuddling/raging hard on incident that occurred with Dean only this morning. Sure, Dean hadn’t been awake for that encounter, but it still left Castiel quite uncomfortable and reluctant to be in his presence. 

*

The game was over at last and Cas had managed to not stare at Dean the entire time, feeling slightly creepy now having met him. He hadn’t told his friends about the encounter, mostly out of residual embarrassment. As he stepped off the bleachers, eyes on his feet to avoid stepping in something unsavory, he crashes into a mammoth-sized person. He looks up to find a familiar face laughing at him.   
“Hello Sam,” Cas greets the giant.   
“Hey Cas! You alright?” Sam asks him, a smile still plastered on his face.   
“Oh yes, I’m fine. What are you doing here? Wait, don’t answer that, I know why you’re here.” Sam simply laughs in response and as he stops, his gaze latches on to something behind Cas. Before Cas can turn around to look, a deep, familiar voice is grumbling a “Hey, Sammy”. Cas feels a hand clap on his shoulder as Dean begins to speak.  
“You alright there, Cas? I’ve noticed falling is a common occurrence in your life,” Dean words are chased by a low chuckle. Before Cas knows what is happening, Anna is beside him, a bemused look on her face.  
“You don’t even know. Cas is quite the klutz. I keep a first aid kit around just for him. I’m Anna, by the way.”  
Cas, remembering himself, introduces the Winchesters to his friends.   
“This is Sam, we met at a coffee shop, he’s new to Kansas City, and his brother, Dean, who lives here in Lawrence. Sam, Dean, this is Anna of course, and over there are Ash and Chuck.” Cas says, pointing over to where Chuck and Ash are gathering their things. Anna gives a nod to each man in turn just as Ash and Chuck wander up to the group, Castiel’s pointing having caught their attention. Anna turns to them with a strange, unreadable expression on her face.  
“Cas was just introducing me to some new friends of his, Sam and Dean.”  
“Cas made friends? Don’t you have to go outside to do that?” Ash responds. Ash is always exceptionally intolerable when he’s been drinking, which is to say, most of the time.   
“I’ve told you before that I do leave the apartment without the encouragement of your brash demands. I met Sam at a coffee shop a couple weeks ago and he introduced me to Dean only last night.” Cas says coolly.   
“Well, anyways, me and Dean were going to grab a drink and celebrate the win. You guys are welcome to come.” Sam tells them. Anna responds immediately, which is shocking as she gets in an answer before Ash even, who jumps on every opportunity that involves booze.   
“We’d love to. Where should we meet?”   
Cas, although he enjoys spending time with his friends, is not excited at this prospect because Dean will be there, making him feel simultaneously horny and guilty, an overall awkward situation to be in. However, its no use pleading his case as it would require him to tell his friends about both his intense attraction to Dean, and the embarrassing incident that is making Cas so uncomfortable around him. Both things are better kept to himself, so Cas resigns himself to a likely unpleasant trip to the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. sorry this was kinda short but I will hopefully have a new chapter really soon  
> sorry I know this inconsistency/long breaks is really annoying


	4. Sparkly Green Snares and Long Island Iced Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas has ended up out of place at bar in the middle of nowhere. He has some interesting interactions with Dean while there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I suck so hard at updating. Like I don't even know what to say. I just suck.

The bar is in the middle of nowhere. It’s not bustling, but Cas is glad for that. Fewer people to embarrass himself in front of. The cars parked in front consist mostly of dusty trucks with a couple old, well maintained, muscle cars (Cas thinks they might be considered “classic”) dispersed among them. Ash and Dean fit in perfectly at The Roadhouse, so Cas, of course, feels completely uncomfortable. His tight v-neck and slim fitting jeans stick out like a sore thumb among the sea of worn plaid and work boots. The conversation is loud and excited and jumbled. Cas simply sits and listens, changing his focus every few minutes and taking in what everyone else is talking about. Their drinks arrive and Cas counts five beers and one Long Island iced tea. Dean glances his way as the waitress hands Castiel his drink.   
“Dude did you just get a soda?” Dean asks him.  
“No, this is a Long Island iced tea.” Castiel tells Dean patiently. Dean stares him skeptically, as if to say that’s practically the same thing. So Castiel, slightly exasperated, elaborates. “It does have alcohol in it Dean. Have you never heard of Long Island iced tea?”   
“No, it sounds like a girl drink, though.”  
“Beverages don’t have genders, Dean. How have you not heard of it, though? It’s a fairly common beverage.”  
“What does it taste like?”  
Castiel doesn’t know what compels him to do it, but he offers his drink to Dean. Castiel never shares his drinks or food with anyone. Ever. It’s fucking unsanitary. Perhaps it’s Dean’s impossible green eyes. They fucking sparkle. And so the glass changes hands with a mumbled “Try it.”  
While Dean is sipping Castiel’s tea, Anna catches his eye. Anna knows Cas’s strict ‘No Sharing’ policy very well, and she has clearly noticed the major exception Cas just made. She raises her eyebrows and gives him a quizzical look and Cas knows she will be bothering him about it later. Though he dreads the forthcoming discussion, Castiel silently thanks her for not bringing it up now.   
Dean hands back Cas’s drink.   
“How’d you like it?”  
“Well it’s not as girly as I thought. I couldn’t taste the tea though.”  
“Dean, there’s no tea in it! It consists of vodka, gin, tequila, rum, triple sec, sour mix, and cola.”  
“What? That name is completely misleading! They should change it.”  
“And what do you suggest it should be called?”  
“Um.”  
He paused.  
“Well.”  
Dean was concentrating, his face screwed up in the most adorable way.  
“Uhh.”  
“Don’t strain yourself.” Cas thought a heard a murmur about “stupid drinks with their stupid irrelevant names.” He chuckled under his breath.   
Conversations continued around them. Cas, not knowing what else to say to Dean, returned to listening to everyone else. While Cas was scanning the group, he realized Dean had suddenly disappeared. He looked around, wondering where he was.   
I probably scared Dean off, or annoyed him, or bored him with my shitty conversational skills. He probably regretted inviting me. Awkward, introverted Castiel. The goddamn shutin. What the fuck I am even doing here? I do best alone, in my living room. No one to annoy except Alfie. But I feed and pet Alfie so he has to put up with me. Everyone annoys Alfie. I clean up his fucking puke so he better put up with me.   
Cas finally spotted Dean. He was standing in front of a jukebox, flipping through songs. Cas was intrigued. He’d only ever seen jukeboxes in 50’s movies. A new song began playing and Dean returned to the group, sliding into a seat next to Castiel.   
“Wow, of course, Dean. Imposing your music on everyone wherever you go. Do you listen to anything from the last two decades?” Sam’s voice resounded across the top of the crowd to taunt Dean.  
“Don’t give me that shit Sammy! This is fucking classic. This is good music, unlike that whiny, angsty crap that you listen to.”  
“Whatever Dean, most people don’t even know this music.”   
“Oh yeah?” Dean responded, appalled. He looked around him and his eyes locked on Cas. “You recognize this excellent music don’t you?”  
Cas felt awkward. So completely awkward. And torn. He wanted to help Dean, to have something in common with Dean, to tell him that he did indeed know this music. But he had no idea what he was listening to. And as much as he wanted to bond with Dean, he really was a terrible liar.   
“No, I have no idea what’s playing, actually,” Cas responded honestly. Sam was giving Dean the smuggest smile Cas had ever seen. Meanwhile, Dean was staring incredulously at Cas.  
“Seriously? You don’t recognize this? Ever heard of Led Zeppelin? Ever heard of classic rock?” Dean was questioning Cas with such passion and ferocity that Castiel actually moved back, away from Dean, as if his emotions had taken a physical form and needed room to expand.   
“No, I don’t listen to much music. I spend most my free time reading.”   
“Well, shit! We need to educate you then,” Dean said with a firmness that told Cas he had no say in the matter.   
“Um, ok,” Cas didn’t know what else to say. He stares at Dean, his sparkly, vibrant green eyes begging for attention. They fucking entrance him, draw him in and capture him, and he can’t look away. But somehow, impossibly, Dean doesn’t look away either.   
How is he not uncomfortable with this? He is literally the definition of masculinity. He should be completely not okay with spontaneous staring contests with other, very gay, men. What the fuck is happening? Maybe its a dominance thing. Maybe he’s challenging me. Like with animals or some shit. I should probably look away. Shit, shit, shit how long have we been staring? I should really fucking look away. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. I can’t fucking look away he has fucking Disney princess eyes. Motherfucking SHIT.  
“Hey Cas, what are you guys doing over here?” Anna’s voice, loud in his ear, broke the trance. She had come over, probably to try and ease the perceived tension, his terrible conversation skills being well known to her.   
“Um, you know, talking and stuff.”  
Dean blinked and looked up at Anna. He looked somewhat confused, almost as if he was surprised to find another person here.   
He must have zoned out. Probably got lost in his thoughts. Hopefully thoughts that didn’t include ‘why is this awkward man creepily staring into my eyes’ or ‘I regret ever agreeing to meet this goddamn freak’. Hopefully he didn’t even notice me there. He was probably pondering the meaning of life or maybe replaying the entire baseball game in his head. I don’t fucking know, I don’t know how these jock types work.   
“Oh yeah, what were we… Oh! Yeah, can you believe that Cas doesn’t know this song!” It had taken Dean a moment to remember their conversation. They must have been staring for a while.   
“Oh I don’t doubt it. Cassie here lives an isolated life. Too absorbed in his books to pay much attention to the rest of the world,” Anna says, nudging him lightly.   
“But its such a classic. I don’t under… Everyone knows it!” Dean sounded so confused, Cas couldn’t help but chuckle.   
“One man’s normal is another man’s strange,” Cas added.   
“Well, uh, yeah, I suppose that’s true.”  
“Of course it’s fucking true, I said it,” Cas said, flashing a quick grin at Dean. Something about Dean brought out his sassy pants.   
“Cocky much?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrow slightly and grinning at Cas.   
“With good reason.” Once again their eyes are locked on each other, and Cas could feel the tension radiating out from himself. Cas was surprised Dean hadn’t been scared off yet, between the weird staring, the painfully obvious attraction, and almost tangible sexual frustration resonating from himself. Maybe Dean was too polite to stop their conversation, or just really, really unobservant. As he pondered these thoughts and moved on to attempting to pinpoint the exact shade of Dean’s eyes, he realized they’d been staring for too long. Again. It probably would have gone on for an unreasonable amount of time if Anna hadn’t been there to break the trance with a not-so-subtle clearing of her throat.   
“Well actually, I came over here to tell you that I’m leaving if you want a ride back now,” Anna told him. As much as Cas wanted to stay and marvel over the hot piece of ass that was Dean Winchester, he knew that if he did he’d be riding home with Ash. And Cas knew that Ash would be staying late into the night, and possibly dragging a girl home with him. He did not want to deal with that. He was also a little more than slightly scared that Dean was sick of him. So he decided to go with Anna.   
“Thanks Anna, that’d be great. I’m going to say ‘bye’ to Sam quick,” Cas told her.  
“Okay, I’ll just be waiting outside. It’s getting a bit stuffy in here.”  
Cas spotted a mane of dark hair towering over the surrounding people and he pushed his way through the crowd to where Sam stood. They chatted for a minute before Cas bid farewell, with the promise to see him soon for coffee. As Cas walked towards the door, a strong grip latched onto his arm and stopped him in his tracks.   
“Hey Cas, wait a second.” Dean was looking at Cas with a weird expression. He looked nervous and somewhat conflicted, or perhaps concerned. Maybe he had important matters weighing on his thoughts. It was probably what he’d been thinking about when Cas had gone into full creeper mood and stared at him for an hour. Dean pushed a napkin into Cas’s hand and Cas gave him a bemused look.   
“My number. So we can properly educate you in classic rock. It kills me to think you’ve been living all this time without experiencing pure awesomeness.”  
A blush was creeping up Castiel’s cheeks. He glanced at the ground, then back up at Dean as he mumbled a “thanks Dean.” He turned around to leave, tripping over a chair on his way to the door, of course. He swore he heard low, gravelly laughter following him out, but he was too embarrassed to look back.


End file.
